South Park © Trey Parker & Matt Stone.
I had fun with this chapter.
Chapter warning: sexual content ahead, be careful.
Now they're going to bed and my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head but she's touching his chest now
He takes off her dress now, let me go
And I just can't look its killing me
And taking control
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
The killers
Kyle Broflovski – This is why I don't party
I am indecisive. I've always been indecisive. Whenever I'm asked what it is that I want I can never really put it into words. Maybe it's because I don't know what I want, or some things are hard to put into words. I don't really like to go to parties, as I've said many times, especially parties such as this one. Kenny has told me stories, though. Stories that have sounded fucking marvellous. It never is as great as he makes it sound.
"Please," he had said to me just hours prior.
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Please?"
It had continued like that until I relented, which wasn't long on my behalf. So here I am, at a party. Will I regret it? Probably. Inevitably, by now Kenny has ditched me and I know exactly what he's doing. It's annoying. I wanted to keep an eye on him, hence why I agreed to come in the first place. I'm worried about him lately. He seems like he's growing more detached as the days pass and I didn't want him to have a repeat of Thursday night.
Minutes after we walked through the doors, he ran off with some big-breasted girl that hangs out with Bebe and Wendy. She was practically dry humping him at the entrance. Right about now they're probably fucking like wild rabbits. I want to be mad at him, but I can't. He was drunk before the party even started and now I'm drunk too. I make my way down the hallway to try and get away from the crowd. A low, guttural moan emerges from one of the doors I walk past and I laugh, secretly wondering if it's Kenny in there, and secretly hoping it's not. Kids these days… I often forget that I, myself, am one.
I saunter up the stairs, stumbling past more drunken kids. They all look completely retarded and I can't help but wonder if I look as stupid as they do. Probably. One of the kids I walk past has his erect dick stuck out of his pants, displayed for the entire room to see. "Look at this shit right here, I got it pierced the a few days ago!" I hear him say. I avert my eyes and sit down at the top of the stairs.
"You look like you're feeling good," a deep, nasally voice says from behind me.
I bend my head back and see Craig Tucker. "Oh, uh, you too," I tell him as I turn to face him, because it's all I really can say at a time like this.
He shrugs and smiles a bit. As he draws closer I can see that his eyes are a little bloodshot. He's probably stoned, which explains why he's talking to me. "I didn't think you came to parties," he says, sitting next to me.
"I usually don't, but Kenny dragged me here. My plan was originally to keep an eye on him, but that didn't really go according to plan. I lost Kenny and got a bit drunk..." I explain.
He shrugs his shoulders carelessly. "McCormick is probably fine. He probably met up with some slut with big jugs and they're probably off somewhere making a night of it."
"Yeah, he is..." I try to dismiss unpleasantly heavy feeling in my gut. Kenny has always been fairly salacious, to say the least. "So you know why I'm here. Why are you here? Token makes you out to seem like the least sociable person on the planet."
"Oh, I am," he shrugs and gives a lazy smile. It reminds me of Kenny's smile. "Clyde's around here somewhere. I think he's trying to make amends with Bebe."
"They're fighting again? Maybe they should just break up." I swear, Bebe and Clyde fight more than Cartman and I.
Craig nods, "We were only supposed to stop by here for a little while, but he wanted to stay and since he's the one with the car I'm kind of stuck."
"Hopefully he's not planning on driving home tonight. I saw Clyde earlier, and it's safe to say that he's pretty wrecked."
Craig laughs, "If that's the case then he'll probably just fuck things up with Bebe even more."
Conversation with Craig Tucker seems to be much easier than everyone makes it out to be. Maybe it's because he's stoned? Or maybe it's because I'm drunk? Either way, it reminds me of conversations with Kenny. They're both easy going, though I'm sure if I brought it up with either of them they'd both passionately deny that they are alike in any way. "Why do people think Kenny is so strange?" I ask, unable to help myself.
Craig taps his chin in thought before saying, "He sees the world differently than most people. That's it, he's just different."
"He is, but I always thought that was a good thing."
"It can be, but it can also freak people out. People tend to fear what they don't understand."
"I suppose so," I say. "What do you think of Kenny?"
"Me?" he shrugs. "I think Kenny McCormick is the type of person who will go around fucking everyone except the one person who truly and genuinely cares about him and wants to be with him. It's pretty fuckin' sad."
I frown at the honesty in the statement.
"He has a lot of shit buried deep," Craig continues. "Shit you probably don't know about and definitely wouldn't want to. Sometimes I wish I didn't know half the stuff I know 'bout him... Knowing about it and not being able to help... Well, it really fuckin' sucks."
"Yeah..." I murmur, wondering what he knows about Kenny that I don't know.
"Help him," Craig requests, "I couldn't, but maybe you can. Maybe he'll let you..."
"I'm trying," I say quietly, but maybe I'm not trying hard enough.
We don't mention Kenny again; instead we just talk about simple things like school, video games and the local sports team. "You know what?" he says out of nowhere, "You grew up nice." He teases one of my curls.
"Oh, um, thanks," I say, though I find it hard to agree with him.
He looks at me, ghosting his finger tips across my bottom lip. "Wanna find a room?"
I blink a few times, carefully considering exactly what it is he's asking. "Yeah, okay." I don't know what makes me agree to it. Maybe it's the fact that I'm lonely. Maybe it's the fact that I'm jealous. Craig is here and even though he isn't Kenny, maybe I can pretend he is just this once.
We stand up and make our way to the first empty room we can find. It's a plain looking bedroom. It's probably a room reserved for guests. He kisses me hard on the lips and wastes no time as he fumbles with the buttons on my cardigan. Once he gets them all, he rips it off along with my t-shirt and throws the articles of clothing across the room. He does the same with my pants and boxers, leaving me standing awkward and naked as he removes his own clothing. Once he's undressed, he gently pushes me onto the bed and kneels over me. My legs instantly draw together. He laughs lightly and I feel stupid and shy. He puts a hand on each of my knees and slowly pulls them apart. He mutters some compliment before settling in between my legs. I try to wear a look of confidence, but I can't do it. I probably look scared. I think I am scared, but I don't know why. It's just virginity.
It's just virginity. I keep repeating that in my head.
"Don't look like that…" he says in slow murmur, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
I nod.
"Okay," he says as he sucks on his fingers.
I keep quiet and spread my legs wider to give easier access.
There's one finger. I find myself briefly wondering which hand he is using in a stupid attempt to distract myself from the strange, foreign feeling.
As the second on makes its way in the weird feeling grows painful. I squirm uncomfortably on the sheets and grit my teeth. I stare up at the ceiling, concentrating on the patterns and speckles and spots. He grabs my legs and tosses them unceremoniously over his shoulders. I feel relieved as the fingers leave my body, but they are only to be replaced by something far more painful that fingers. I inhale sharply as he draws closer and closer, until we are close enough to kiss but don't.
"Fuck…" he mumbles. "Shit."
I feel those fingers on me, the ones that had been inside me mere minutes ago. Was it minutes or just mere seconds? My muscles clench and his fingers have a firm hold on my hips.
"Just relax," he says, "If you don't then... nnn…"
The movements grow faster and I bite my tongue to keep silent. It feels like he went in dry and it burns. I guess this is why you need lube.
The headboard off the bed is rattling with us. "Are you okay?" he asks, slowing his pace.
"Yes," I manage to bite out.
"Are you sure?"
I nod, urging him to get on with it.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"Just move," I hiss, gritting my teeth.
He gives a look of hesitance, but continues anyway. He's not looking at me anymore. His gaze is directed at the rattling headboard above me. I wonder if he's imaging I'm somebody else. I should close my eyes and do the same. Sometimes he hits a certain spot that feels good. I feel my eyes growing watery as I open my mouth inaudibly gasping. I don't feel so drunk anymore. I shut my eyes tightly. I don't want to see his face when he comes inside of me.
I feel myself jerk as he wraps a hand around me, tugging in a sloppy rhythm. I still hurt but it's momentarily dulled as the pleasure takes over. My lips part again and I can no longer protest or think straight.
"Ah…!" My toes curl and uncurl. Panting, I look down on the mess I made on my stomach. I sigh, defeated and let my head rest back on the bed. I want to go home. I want to be asleep in my own bed, not that of a strangers.
He follows short moments after. I feel his body shudder as he lets out a low, guttural moan. When he pulls out I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I feel hot, like I'd been sitting under the sun for far too long.
For the longest time I just lay here. Craig isn't in my line of vision; he probably got redressed and went to clean off. "That was your first time right?" he asks as he re-enters the room. He is already dressed, and holding a tissue box in his hand. He pulls one out and wipes my stomach off. Considerate.
Propping myself up on my shoulders, I mutter some confirmation, turning my head away.
"I could tell… you were…" he trails off.
I was what? Awkward? Rigid? The worst lay ever? Sometimes I hear Kenny talking about people that are terrible in bed and he calls them a bad lay. Was I a bad lay? I can't even bring myself to ask. "Yeah…" I sit up and gasp at the pain shooting through my spine. For a few minutes I just sit there, motionless, naked and flushed.
"Don't worry; first times usually aren't the best. You'll be sore," he gives a nervous laugh and then picks my clothes up off the floor. "Here," he says, handing them over.
I mumble a 'thanks' as I carefully stand up to get dressed. He watches me and I don't have the energy to tell him to look away.
"I'm sorry..." he murmurs.
"It's fine, really... Please, don't apologize. I wanted it too, remember."
"You're drunk –"
"But I still wanted it," I insist.
He shrugs, frowning. "Can I ask why?"
I stay silent and he leaves it at that.
"I'll see you at school," he whispers before exiting the room.
I curl up on the bed and shut my eyes. I'm too tired to attempt to find Kenny. I'll go look for him in the morning.
I can't believe that just happened. I think it's safe to say I'm never drinking again.
When I wake up, I immediately get out of bed, trying not to let the memories of last night replay in my head. I try to disguise the hitch in my step as I search for Kenny. He is asleep on the sofa in the basement, with his jeans unbuttoned and his limp dick half hanging out. I wonder how many people have seen him looking like that and it bothers me. I wish he would think better of himself. This is the way it always ends up. The girl probably ditched him right after they fucked to go and partner up with someone else. Kenny is the same. Soon he'll be looking for a new conquest. "Kenny?" I shake him roughly.
"Huh?" he mumbles groggily, opening his eyes.
"Wakey, wakey," I say in a sing-song voice. "Make yourself decent."
He sits up and looks down at his lap. "Ah, my bad," he says, tucking his dick back in and zipping up his pants.
"Come on, let's leave," I say, wrapping my fingers around his wrist.
"You're not hung-over?" he asks.
I shrug, "A bit, you?"
"Not really, just tired." The way out is like a maze of unconscious bodies. Once we're outside, Kenny stops my and turns me to face him. "You okay? You're walking funny," he observes.
"I fell a lot last night," I laugh as we step outside. "Ah, fuck, it's bright." I shield my eyes with my hand.
"You okay?" he asks, narrowing his eyes and looking at me strangely.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," he says after examining my face, "But you look different this morning. Something's changed."
I give him a strange look, even though I know exactly what he's talking about. What an odd thing for him to have noticed. "I don't know what you mean; I'm the same as I was last night." Hah.
"Okay," he says, sounding unconvinced. "If you're sure."
Okay, so maybe losing virginity does change a person; however, I don't really feel like I've changed. I feel the same as I did before I had sex. Maybe it depends on who you fuck. Stan has always told me that I need to be careful and lose my virginity to someone I care about and who cares for me. I obviously didn't listen. I didn't think my virginity was really all that important. It certainly wasn't something people were going to be fighting over. Oh, well. I'm not going to give myself the time to mull it over. I'm just going to forget about it for now. "I'm sure," I say with finality. "So, how was she?"
"Who?" he asks as we start to walk.
"The girl or whoever you were with last night."
"Oh, I don't even remember," he laughs.
I force myself to laugh too, even though it isn't funny at all. "So it was that good of a night, was it?"Kenny once told me that when he doesn't remember what he did the night before he automatically assumes it was a good night.
"Guess so."
We walk back to Kenny's place and he collapses onto his bed, a simple mattress on the floor. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he is out like a light. I look over at his laptop, then back at Kenny, then back at the laptop. It's staring at me, just asking to be hacked into… Before I can decide against it, I open it and do my thing. There's a window marked in one of the tabs. It's a porn site, go figure. I press the play button to the video on the opened tab and it's not at all what I expected to find. It's some weird amateur porno with some guy jerking off and pissing on himself in a bathtub. Ew, pee... "What…" I feel my face flush as I watch the video, unable to look away from the crude scene. Why would Kenny be watching something like this? First of all… a dick and no tits. It's a man. I guess Kenny was serious all those times he insisted he swung both ways.
"Like it?" a voice whispers in my ear. I spin around and cover my mouth with my hands. I've never been on the receiving end of Kenny's bedroom voice before. He is standing there with an amused look on his face, "So…?"
"I-I-uh…ah…" I stutter pathetically, "Fuck."
He grins, folding his hands behind his head. "Urolagnia is definitely not my thing," he makes a face, "but I was curious."
"I'm surprised you know a word that big?" I quip back and he laughs good naturedly. Kenny and I both know he is far from stupid. "Kenny, I have a question," I say.
"Shoot."
"What happens?" I ask.
"When…?" he urges specification.
"When you lose your virginity?" I finish.
"What do you mean?" he wonders.
"What are you losing? Where does it go?" I question.
He smiles a bit, probably at the naïve childishness of the question. "Well," he shrugs, "You gain knowledge of a new experience after you lose your 'innocence' I suppose… I guess it gets sucked up by the person that fucked yah!"
"Jeez," I say dryly. I suppose I should have expected an answer like that. A very typical Kenny thing to say. He goes on to tell an elaborately retarded story about a man who fucks virgins and, by sucking up their "innocence", ends up getting superhuman powers.
"Please stop talking," I say dryly.
Rain taps at the windows later in the day, streaking and staining the once clear glass with guilt and grime over the night before. I always found the rain to be relaxing. It seems to wash away the badness. After a storm, the sun's light shines through the grey clouds and offers you a new beginning. I grab Kenny's wrist and lead him out into the streets. I raise my head to the sky, letting the cold drops of water soak my face and hair as if they're washing away any guilt or sin.
"What on earth are you doing?" Kenny laughs, but I just smile.
